Chapter 14 #2
“I’m not. You are perfection, Willow. You are everything I want.
But I won’t pretend to understand the war going on in your mind right now.
All I can do it tell you that I am obsessed with every inch of you.
You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.
And I am fucking desperate to be inside you.
But I will wait. I’ll wait forever if that’s how long it takes for you to know without any fear or uncertainty that you are the end of my story, not a stepping stone to something else.
Not a punching bag. Not beneath me. Beside me, a partner in this life and every life after this one.
” His eyes bore into mine, and it’s so fucking hard not to fall head over heels in love with this man when he says beautiful things like that.
I’m soaked, I can feel it. Hearing him talk about the way he wants me with such conviction is an adrenaline shot straight to all the neediest parts of me.
Judging by the way his eyes dilate when he slides his nose down the column of my neck, breathing me in, he knows exactly what he does to me.
A whimper escapes my mouth as my teeth clamp down on my bottom lip.
“Please,” I whisper, and he groans.
“Fuck, baby. Say it again,” he demands, nipping at my neck. His need for me feels primal, barely restrained.
“Say what?” I ask, breathless. I’ll say anything he wants to hear as long as he keeps his hands on me.
He traces a path across my collarbone, hooking a finger in the v-neck of my tank top and pulling it to the side to expose more of my sensitive skin to him. His touch is all teeth and tongue and fire, marking my flesh, branding me in a way I wish was more permanent.
“Beg me to touch you,” he says, and my core clenches at the order.
“Touch me, Beck, please. Please,” I beg, just as his mouth closes around my nipple through the thin fabric of my top.
He toys with my piercings, and I’ve never been happier to have given into the girls when Kelsea suggested we all needed piercings.
His thumbs dig into the flesh just above my hips, and a strangled cry escapes my throat as my hands wrap around his head.
“I want to taste you, Will. I don’t ever want to push you further than you’re willing to go, but I-” he says, always considerate with me.
“Yes,” is all I say before he’s gripping the neck of my tank top and ripping it down the center.
The sound of fabric tearing is equal parts aggressive and erotic, only intensified by the fact that he’s still fully clothed.
He pulls my shorts down my legs, leaving me lying beneath him in just my black lace panties.
Something told me after I showered earlier that these were the right choice for tonight.
If the look on his face is any indication, I was right.
The man is starving, and I’m the only meal on earth capable of satisfying him.
“How much do you value these?” He asks, slowly tracing the edge of the lace just below my belly button.
“Considering they’re my only pair of sexy underwear, I value them a lot.” I smirk, knowing I’m trying to muzzle a rabid dog. He looks up to the ceiling, begging God for the patience he needs in this moment, I’m sure.
Slowly, he hooks his fingers in the sides and gently slides the lace down my thighs.
Goosebumps dance across my skin, and I’m painfully aware I’m lying beneath him completely naked.
He wants my confidence. I chant it over and over like a mantra in my mind until my spine straightens.
I fix my eyes on his and I see the pride in his eyes.
“That’s my girl. So fucking beautiful it kills me.
Your body is perfection, a masterpiece I’m lucky to behold.
” He sits back on his heels, just staring at me, memorizing every inch of my skin.
He palms his cock through his pants, groaning before falling back on top of me as his lips trace a path from my collarbone to the sensitive skin around my nipple.
His mouth closes around it, wet heat engulfing me as his tongue swirls around the delicate peak and cool metal.
My core clenches, begging for his attention.
My hips buck as he sucks slowly, drawing desperate moans from me.
“Beck I…please just…I need…” I can’t form a complete thought. My mind spins with every movement of his tongue, every touch of his hands against my skin. I’m aching for him to move lower, to fill this need within me.
His arm snakes up between my breasts, his palm encircling my throat.
He squeezes, but nothing like I’ve felt before.
The way he touches me is measured, intentional, done with only the desire to bring me under his control.
The pressure against my neck is intoxicating.
I’m almost embarrassed to admit how much it turns me on. Almost.
“I know exactly what my woman needs, Willow. I can feel your body tensing, your pulse racing. Fuck, I can smell your sweet pussy from here, pretty girl. I know you want to come for me. I know you dream about how badly you want that release. You need it, don’t you, baby?
” He says, fingers flexing against my throat.
My hips buck up against him, my mind unable to form a functional thought long enough to give him an answer.
“As you wish,” he says, heat radiating from his fingertips as he kisses a path up my inner thigh.
He bites the sensitive skin there, his teeth sinking in hard enough to leave his mark and drawing a sharp gasp from me as my back bows off the couch.
His hand around my throat tightens, and I swallow instinctively.
“Don’t move. I’ve been waiting a long time for this, I’m gonna savor every single second.” He groans, his voice deeper than I’ve ever heard before.
“Beck, it’s just-” my mind spins, the sensation of his head between my legs, his lips barely hovering over my core, his hand wrapped around my throat, his everything everywhere around me.
I can’t breathe. It’s been years since anyone has touched me in any way that could be considered intimate.
And no one has ever done what he’s inches from doing right now.
How did I make over thirty years without experiencing this?
“I will always take care of you, Willow. In every single meaning of the word.” He says, the tip of his tongue teasing my center. “When was the last time someone gave you the release you deserve?”
I want to bury my face in the sand and die at that question.
This man pulls the deepest, darkest secrets out of me, but I’m embarrassed to admit this one for the first time.
He pauses, his eyes searing through mine as he waits for my answer.
All I can do is shake my head, understanding dawning on him.
Something that almost looks like anger flashes in his eyes as a growl builds deep in his chest. His hands clamp around my upper thighs, pulling my legs apart until I’m spread wide in front of him, his grip tight and unrelenting.
I can feel each of his fingers pressing into my flesh, somewhere between a squeeze and a claw.
The pressure intensifies, and the pads of his fingertips seem to sink in, creating permanent indentations on my skin.
I’ll carry his marks forever as long as I always get to feel this way.
“Mine,” his voice is dark and severe, a claiming.
There’s only a second for me to catch my breath before he devours me.
His mouth locks onto my core, sucking hard before he soothes me with gentle strokes of his tongue.
Fire blazes instantly in my chest, a tightness growing there unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
The man is determined to suck the soul from my body, and I’m afraid he might actually succeed.
“Fuck, Beck. Oh, god! Don’t stop, don’t stop,” I chant, my fingers scraping across his scalp. I pull his face closer into me, I can’t help it. This feeling is too good, too perfect for me to have any semblance of control over the rest of my body.
He licks and sucks, lapping at my core like a man starved for years. I want to dissolve into him, race through his veins like I’m the only thing capable of giving him life. I’m sure if you asked him, he’d tell you that was already true.
Heat rolls down my spine. I swear I can feel a searing light trailing slowly through my body, building, burning hotter and hotter.
It crackles in my veins, feeds on my panting breaths, on his name whispered from my lips, on the feeling of his skin against mine.
Every spark is a promise that I am his completely.
“Come for me, pretty girl.” He commands, and my body obeys without permission or warning.
Fire consumes me, my eyes going hazy as I melt against his hands and mouth.
The man is a fucking weapon of mass destruction, and I’ve been decimated.
I am nothing but rubble and ash. When he finally comes up for air, he’s panting, a wicked smile painted across his lips.
God, he is so much more than I ever envisioned he’d be.
Before I can stop them, tears fill my eyes, spilling over my lashes and across my cheeks.
I will them away, desperate to keep him from watching the walls I’ve worked so hard to build around my heart crumble.
I can’t hold back the sob that silently rocks my body.
He jerks back, still looking up at me from between my trembling legs.
“Did I hurt you? What’s wrong, Will?” he says, his brows creased in the center the way they always do when he’s worried. Fuck, I never imagined in my wildest dreams I could feel so much for someone, but not be able to explain it.
I shake my head slowly, the tears falling freely.
My first instinct is to cover up, to run and hide and never let anyone see this part of me again.
But what if? What if this is exactly where I’m supposed to be?
What if this is exactly how you’re supposed to feel when you feel it with the person you’re meant to be with?
“I just, I don’t know,” I sob. I can feel this feeling perfectly clearly, but my mind can’t seem to articulate that at all.
“Look at me. Did I hurt you?” He asks, framing my face with both of his hands, nothing but concern in his eyes.
“No, definitely not.” I say, taking a deep, shaky breath.
“I just never imagined this is what it was supposed to feel like. Physically, emotionally, I always knew nothing was ever right before. But this? I never dreamed it was supposed to feel like this. And now I’m just so fucking disappointed in myself for ever accepting anything less.
For ever allowing…” my words trail off as I dissolve into a puddle of tears. What a fucking mood killer I am.
Warmth engulfs me as Beckett picks me up, cradling me in his lap like I’m fragile.
I’m sure right now I seem like a ticking time bomb, who knows when the next wave of emotion will set me off.
I wait for the moment he tries to redirect the situation back to the potential sex I just ruined, but it doesn’t happen.
Instead, he holds my head against his chest with one firm hand while the other strokes up and down my leg soothingly.
I listen to the steady thrum of his heart beating in his chest, the sound settling every wild instinct I have inside me.
I’m falling and flying all at once, not destroyed but rearranged, somehow softer.
We linger in the afterglow, the quiet warmth between our two souls a comfort I’ve never known before. We share the silence of something beautiful that burned but, for once in my life, did not harm.